


start to tumble down (pick me back up off the ground)

by machetechampion



Category: Seven Psychopaths (2012)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, au: billy never died dont @ me, i havent tagged a fic in years, idk its gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24664024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machetechampion/pseuds/machetechampion
Summary: "he just has to work on the impulsive murder and desire to fit roles that allow him to shoot people a lot all the time.movie’s out. next point."
Relationships: Billy Bickle/Marty Faranan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	start to tumble down (pick me back up off the ground)

**Author's Note:**

> billy/marty fluff because the lack of content for these gays is going to kill me. 
> 
> u can hmu on @ratmiddleman (twitter) for fic ideas!

it’s out.

it happened and it’s out. he feels like the world has just begun.

he knows he’ll have his qualms- dying for the art of it all, that woulda been dope- but he can settle for a bromance level ending where the cops shoot charlie first ( _ he didn’t totally acknowledge they’d see more danger in a real gun than a flare, loaded or otherwise, but hey- we work with what we’re given _ ) and he runs to marty ( _ into his arms?????? _ _ somewhere in a mental notepad covered in stickers _ ) and hops in the car with bonny ( _ needs a renaming, why the y???? poorly planned. _ ) and into the city to live happily ever ( _ platonically???? _ ) after. he’ll deal. it’s fine. settling. give and take. friendship.

that’s how it works.

he’s dressed to the eights, because nines and tens are a bother to achieve. marty is dressed to the eight millions. wow. wow. marty’s sober, and billy knows and told him he doesn’t mind a sip tonight. he trusts marty! it’s a big day. this movie’s got him to two years with production and post and pre-marketing and all these things billy researched because he had to be ready. he had to be good, cus that’s what he does now. the cops and him had a talk, a non-disclosure insanity plea, which billy gets. he understands. he had to be, and that’s fine, and he’s ‘rehabilitating.’ so it’s good and he got it and he’s ready.

the doctor keeps talking about meds, that he can slow his mental processing, his analysis, his need to make everything ok. he said if the movie goes bad he’ll consider it. goals. end points. one to the other, easy peasy! he knows that if he learns this stuff and can execute it it’s useful.

he just has to work on the impulsive murder and desire to fit roles that allow him to shoot people a lot all the time. 

movie’s out. next point.

marty didn’t want to drink, which makes billy swell with ( _ he’ll accept marty’s choice but he’s not going to keep lying about this platonic bullshit _ ) love. he knows marty is thinking about hans. the smile he gives is excited but in his eyes he’s worried. billy isn’t afraid or nervous really. he’s excited and he worries about marty but he’s doing the right thing to cope so billy is more than happy to swing an arm around his shoulder. he’s not red carpet, it’s some weird la film fest for genres that are jumbled and you know what? he’ll take it. if marty’s going to huff and look away and tap his foot when billy submitted it to the queer film fest, he’ll bend. he gets it.

( _ he doesn’t. but he’s really trying to pretend he does. _ )

“hey man, we made it. we did the thing.”

marty isn’t as anxious around billy anymore, but sudden movements like this wince. pacifism. it woulda been pretty hot if he killed charlie, but he keeps bending and that’s how friendship works,  _ billy _ . that’s fine though. he rattles marty a little, it’s just him, and they’re both getting better, and that’s awesome. one plus one equals two.

“well, shall we go in? you ran late again.” 

( _ of course, it’s fashionable. silly man. _ )

“martin, nothing in the world would make me happier.” 

( _ and he doesn’t lie anymore usually mostly! _ )

so they go in. marty doesn’t have enough free calmness to do anything but smile, nod, and go in. billy went to the seating planning and he’d ( _ of course _ ) already selected the best seats to get the perfect look at every single scene. the lack of a 3d budget was a crime beyond anything he’d done.

“billy, why is it packed?”

“why wouldn’t it be? it’s great!”

“you said this was small, why is a small festival full?”

“people buy tickets to small things!” 

( _ he sent a few  _ _ free _ _ discounted tickets. people like to see things. it’s not bad, the tickets got sold, he can make half back or whatever of his own money if this goes well and it’ll be worth it. _ )

marty sighs, but billy can see excitement in his eyes. they file to their seats, the announcer comes up- some big city twink with glasses so big it’s embarrassing for his thin little face and far-too-much fluffy hair. ( _ styled, it would be fine, but excess length at the bottom? whose pants does he want to get in? queer eye won’t touch this one. too much to unpack. _ ) it’s fine- he doesn’t get it, but it’s fine. he clears his throat like a full-of-himself tool. 

“hello everyone, and welcome. our next film is the first by a breakout artist, and i must say, it’s quite a piece. this work analyzes humans not in one dimension, perhaps in even more than three. it sees us beyond what we do good, or how we grow- but the carnage that can be part of our growth and understood and justified by some. we look at all humans in our good, our bad, our loves, our sexualities, our friends and foes- what makes us human and what perhaps tips us to insane- but not animalistic. remember to stick around afterwards to discuss with the creators, and now, friends of film-  _ seven psychopaths _ .”

( _ it’s not that deep, dude. this should be a hollywood blockbuster. it’s not indie analysis, it’s cinema. _ )

( _ right? _ )

( _ right. _ )

( _... _ )

( _ also, italics are his thing. correctness, my ass- you got here second. _ )

but he’ll take it. there’s applause and the film starts and he knows every word. it’s 20 minutes of hypomania ( _ as he’s told _ ) before he looks at marty, whose opinion matters most here.

marty is crying.

marty is crying?

marty is crying.

he’s crying and this is one of those situations billy has never been good with. the impulse is to crawl over all these theater seats and go into the bathroom and think and fix, but that is called making a scene and is also referred to as ruining the night. he wonders what he could have done. a worse actor for hans? less lighting? a darker backdrop?

billy isn’t as excited the rest of the movie. he still is-it’s great, it’s really great, marty did a great job making it pretty and thoughtful and billy can almost understand the pretentious film twink’s analysis. his favorite is the carnage, but marty’s vision of love and peace and understanding or whatever that means rings true.

it’s good.

he likes it.

( _ does marty? _ )

the film closes and this little dude he could drop kick ( _ he won’t _ _? _ ) looks at him as he walks up. he nods when billy raises a finger and starts going on. billy touches marty’s shoulder so gently he wonders if this is what healing looks like. becoming softer. it’s weird.

bending.

billy whispers-”do you want to step out?”

marty looking at him with damp eyes makes him harder to read. it’s like a fog over his cognition. he can’t figure this out.

“no, no- let’s go up. i don’t want to bother this little man.”

they share a smile, billy’s big and toothy and marty’s small but full of brightness. they got this. billy practically bounces up to the stage with a voice already louder than any microphone-

“alright, anyways, so cool, great work bud. but we all know who the real star of the show is- marty faranan! best director on the block. i’m here too. but focus on the star, why don’t’cha.”

marty’s shaking ( _ of course he is. the dude holds his ground like a loaf of wet bread in quicksand _ ). they sit on stools that make billy feel like hes in art class making pottery weens for fun. marty sits like hes about to be called on for a spelling bee- billy as haphazardly as possible. 

( _ he doesn’t like chairs without backs. they don’t allow enough range of movement. _ )

his energy could never dwarf what he sees in marty, but this announcer looks like hes about to fall to pieces just being near billy. billy likes it. he likes to command everyone’s attention so long as marty doesn’t need it. 

“would you mind introducing yourselves?” his voice feels meeker with the mic just as close at this proximity. billy could end him in seconds with not a weapon in sight.

( _ this is marty’s day. _ )

“i’m marty- uh, marty faranan. co-writer and director.”

( _ co-??????????? co-???????? _ )

( _ the terms were agreed on but he could’ve lied, right? marty is feasibly capable of that, right????? maybe???????? _ )

billy’s so wrapped in brain-thoughts the announcer coughs to bring him to reality. it’s not an embarrassment, easy-peasy communications. it’s nothing.

“i’m billy bickle! i’m in the movie! i co-wrote it with my dear friend marty over here. i may be a movie star, but this dude’s a star in every right! glad t’see you all, pleasure’s aaaaaaall mine.”

there’s a half second eye contact exchange of consent before he pulls marty into a fast side-hug. billy is used to these exchanges now.

( _ he knows marty’s touch sensitivity therapy was to make him feel better about his everything therapy. he knows. he wont say anything. it means the world and more. _ )

the half smile marty gives isn’t out of character- it feels like they’ve been rehearsing for this for too long to quantify. appearances, billy remembers. he understands appearances- always has. marty reminded him that the larger public can’t grapple with being pals with someone who murdered half of the mafia like it was afternoon tea. the NDA plea deal was hard enough. let’s not make it harder- let’s make a presentable billy for stuff like this. 

( _ once marty said ‘closed doors billy’ and he thought he’d never have to pay another man again. _ ) 

it’s easy though! it will be. no sweat. field questions from idiots who think metropolis is cinema. they won’t understand it. marty’s selection from the audience is random, which is what you’re supposed to do, according to a four-hour discussion about plants.

( _ marty, i’m going to die if someone asks about the explosions. someone’s going to judge my explosions. c’mon, it’s legal! saturday night live said so! _ )

“hi, i loved your piece!”

( _ good start. don’t try and suck his dick. _ )

( _ i deserve groupie #1 status. _ )

“i think it was a very interesting choice for a first piece, i wanted to inquire- what is the relationship between our titular characters? martin and william, yes? their relationship intrigues me- can you speak on that?”

( **_fuck._ ** )

( _ this was not in the checklist and he promised not to star wars how he feels about marty. _ )

( _ marty will also have a conniption if this is where you drop the l word, bud. _ )

billy forgot how to be speechless. it’s a sensation limited to disappointing marty and marty making reuben nachos ( _ he’s pretty sure they’re appropriative, but swallows every bite with love in his eyes- the speechlessness is due to trying not to be ill. _ ) being speechless is difficult and he does not like it. he can’t even tell if marty registered the question because billy is mulling over an answer. has it been an infinity? ( _ more like four. _ ) the .2 seconds it takes for societies to fall and cows to be declared extinct in billy’s head is apparently all marty needed.

“i think trying to quantify it is unfair to them. martin sees a lot in bi-william, but a full on ‘relationship’ is too much. martin’s dealing with his morals, but william is more important than that. he doesn’t know it, though. it’s not the right time.”

marty’s not looking at billy, which is all better, because his jaw is on the floor and marty’s never been good with body horror. it’s not the eloquence, marty has the verbiage of a god, and billy ( _ has _ ) could listen to him say nothing for hours. weeks. years. a lifetime and more.

( _ this wasn’t nothing. _ )

( _ this was food to feed a continent. _ )

( _ marty just ended the nation of bickle’s decades of debt. _ )

( _ thank GOD _ ) audience member number whatever seems satisfied with that one, because billy didn’t have the capacity to talk on that. he knows how to reset, and is sure he did, because people are complimenting him and shaking his hand ( _ you know, the one he wishes was squeezing marty’s _ ) and telling him how powerful a filmmaker he is. he knows he told them he’s just a lucky actor with a great friend, but the words are recited and hollow.

“do you want me to drive?” marty’s voice has the soft concern for billy he didn’t ever know he was allowed and billy is trying to not melt. 

words are stuttered out “uh, yeah- i’d appreciate that, bud.”

getting in the car is easy, but thinking isn’t. he replays the words over and over again. ‘it’s not the right time.’ billy is meta-ing about marty’s movie.

their movie.

he doesn’t realize he’s preemptively buckled his seatbelt until marty coughs and he looks to see the dude unbuckled- which marty hasn’t done since the day. since charlie.

“i wanted to say something…”

jump to attention marty rarely starts statements like that what’s happening. even now he struggles to stop his word vomit. “yeah man what’s up what do you need what’s wrong are you good i-”

a breath.

“sorry. go ahead.”

marty’s breath is bigger than billy’s, and followed by another infinity pause. this one isn’t imagined.

“i just- wanted to say. an addendum, they call it, yeah?”

billy wonders if their conversations have been this slow. he wonders if faster conversations are a lost cause. it doesn’t matter, actually. go on, marty.

“what’s up?”

one more pause.

“that happened a long time ago, right?”

marty is gripping the steering wheel. billy realizes he’s driven marty everywhere since charlie. billy would have ripped it off the car by now. he nods three times instead.

“well…. maybe there is a right time. maybe.”

billys brain is hardwired to go fast all the time. every day. it is a black hole right now, a void brain. it’s new. it’s important. this is an anniversary, right?

“i love you a whole hell of a lot, billy. always have, always will. more, now. thank you. for everything.”

right.

it is.

even before the peck on the cheek marty gives that feels like a high school girl under her first mistletoe.

it’s logged. it’s there.

( _ end act two, billy. _ )


End file.
